


The Last Ones

by nxttime



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Injustice: Gods Among Us, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxttime/pseuds/nxttime
Summary: redtruthed said: do u ever think abt how in the injustice universe…bruce’s only remaining son is jason…everyone else is dead…





	The Last Ones

“It’s you,” Bruce says, voice heavy. He staggers to his knees. A sad man. But mostly, a tired one. “It’s you, Jason. You’re the only one left.”

“I heard about Dick,” Jason says. “But Tim…”

“Gone.” Bruce looks down.

“Damian? Helena? Jim? Kate?”

“They’re gone. They’re all gone.” Bruce stares at his hands. “I watched them die, Jason. I watched them all die.”

Jason sucks in a sharp breath, looking away. If his eyes water, he ignores it, trying to instead wrangle his emotions into something he can deal with.

“I…” his voice cracks a little, there, for a second, but he clears it and tries again. “Now what, old man? Why’re you here?” Because Jason has no idea why Bruce is here, now, with _him,_ instead of grieving the others.

Bruce says nothing, still staring at his hands, and Jason wants to scream at him to say something–wants him to give Jason something to focus on–but he doesn’t.

When Bruce continues to stay quiet Jason shakes his head and starts to leave, thoughts flicking from dead brother to dead brother as he calls back, “Impressive depressed gargoyle impression, B; it’s your best so far.”

_There’s no way. Tim was alive, Damian was alive, Dick was alive–they were all living. When did they…? If I had been there, maybe…_

He tightens his jaw and balls his hands into fists. No. Jason isn’t going to start with the ‘what if’s, because ‘what if’ doesn’t change anything.

His family is still dead.

“Jason.”

Taking a shaky breath, Jason pauses in his leave.

“Where are you going?” Bruce’s voice is rough and hoarse. Almost makes Jason stay and try to talk to him, but only almost.

“Away, Bruce,” he answers over his shoulder. “If you’re going to be a constipated jackass about telling me why you decided to pay me a visit, I’m not sticking around for it.” Jason hunches his shoulders, bowing his head a bit, and says, “I just want to know something, Bruce, just _one_ thing. I don’t know how my brothers _died,_ and I don’t know who killed them, because you aren’t telling me _anything._ ”

He pauses and his voice cracks when he finishes with, “Do you know how that feels?”

The silence stretches on long enough that Jason’s convinced Bruce isn’t going to say anything so he starts to walk away again.

“Diana broke Damian’s neck,” Bruce’s rasped voice croaks loud enough for Jason to hear. “Right in front of me.”

Jason falters mid-step, nearly tripping. He turns his head to look back at Bruce, lump slowly rising in his neck. And he watches as his–albeit estranged–dad trembles, face in his hands, shoulders hunched a little, and Jason feels his resolve start to crack as he feels his knees start to go weak.

Bruce continues without prompt.

“Damian killed Dick by accident,” he says, voice almost cracking. “He threw an escrima at Dick’s head and Dick… Fell. He fell, to his death, and I couldn’t do anything, just like his family. I couldn’t save him like I couldn’t them, either, and he _died.”_

Bruce’s breath hitches as he tries to swallow a sob, and Jason takes a trembling step toward him.

And Bruce keeps going.

 _“Tim.”_ Bruce’s voice does crack then, and something akin to a sob forces itself from his mouth before he can continue. “I was right there. _Right there._ He was so close I could _touch_ him, and he’d just come back. He was shot through the chest, and all I could do was hold him as he bled out, in my arms. I _held him while he died.”_

Jason drops to his knees in front of Bruce, hands shaking against his thighs, lump in his throat growing as if to choke him, and tears start to crawl down his cheeks as he bites his bottom lip, hanging his head.

He stays like that for a few heartbeats.

Then Bruce pulls him into a crushing hug and Jason can’t help but return the embrace, burying his face in Bruce’s shoulder, tears now streaming down his face like an open faucet.

“You’re all I have left, Jason,” Bruce all but sobbed. “You’re _all I have left._ I- I can’t lose you too, Jay, I can’t. I’ve… They’re _gone,_ and I _can’t_ lose another son.”

Forcing himself to swallow past the asphyxiating cotton in his throat, Jason said, “Okay.”

Because what else is there to say? His brothers are gone. Bruce is all Jason has left, too.

He’d had three brothers. _Three of them._ One older and two younger.

And he outlived them all.

God, is his life a nightmare or what?

Times like these make him wish he was still dead.

_They’re gone._


End file.
